Lies, Deceit, and Betrayal
by roze
Summary: A boy, a girl, a murder. . . . . . things could get sticky. A/N I have no idea how I have managed to get a mystery/humour, but I have, so r+r!
1. The Cheshire cat! Run!

Hello, people of Fanfiction.net! Just a word of warning, this is my first fic which is not comedy. Well, it is. And, well, it isn't. Ok, I am just confusing myself. Never mind. Well, I'd better get on with the story. Please review; I like to know how many people have read this. Thank you!  
  
Disclaimer: This fic has been created solely for entertainment purposes. I, roze, take full credit for all improvements in your life commencing as of your reading of this fic and continuing for a reasonable period of time thereafter or until hell freezes over, whichever is longer. I, roze, accept no blame for any trouble you might get into because of same, including but not limited to: grounding, detention, expulsion from school, disfiguring hunting accidents, and the death penalty. You have now been duly warned. Enjoy!  
  
r+r, PLEASE, roze x  
  
Lies, Deceit and Betrayal  
  
Liberty  
  
I couldn't believe it. My dad was making me go with him to work, for a little 'Work Experience'. Like I needed any. But anyway, my dad. He works in the Ministry of Magic, in the department of something fancy, and long. He mostly deals with crime. Yay. I'm just glad he doesn't work in those really boring departments, like the department of safety to plants. God, talk about boredom. So, my day. Well, basically, this one-day changed my life. For the better, and for the worse. It depends on what way you look at it.  
  
A new case had come in. A guy had totally disappeared without a trace. The day before, they found his body floating in the river Cleer. I mean, this guy had a family! A son my age, a daughter who was 10, a wife, how could they cope? Well, it was beyond me. The guy's name was John Silverstone. I remembered him from somewhere. Where? I didn't know. Till dad told me.  
  
"Head of the department of Misuse of Magic, or something. Do you remember him, Nadine?"  
  
"Yes father."  
  
"You know. The guy with the grey hair, very tall. Always smiling."  
  
"Yes father," I repeated. "He was Irish."  
  
"Yes, a real tragedy. I just don't know what happened to him. It's a mystery. He clearly was kidnapped, and tortured. His poor family. His poor, poor family." He muttered.  
  
"Sir." Said a quiet voice at the end if the room. My father ignored him. "Sir!" my father gave no reaction. "SIR!"  
  
"Yes, what do you want, Jones." My father sighed.  
  
"We have news of the death of John Silverstone."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"His son was the last to see him. An hour before his death."  
  
"So?"  
  
"He might know who killed his father."  
  
"He would've said who it was if he knew." I butted in.  
  
"Yes, but they could've blackmailed him; swore him to secrecy, or something." Enquired Jones.  
  
"Why don't we just ask the boy?" said my father.  
  
"He refuses to say a thing."  
  
"What about a truth potion? Surely you are allowed to use them." I said.  
  
"Oh, I'm afraid not. Our truth potions are of no use. The Minister Of Magic has forbidden the use of them."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Don't know. It's a new law that has only been in effect for two days."  
  
"But isn't it a bit suspicious that this new law has just come into action, when this murder happened?" I asked.  
  
"True. You are definitely the daughter of a detective." He smiled.  
  
"Well?" I asked impatiently. "Maybe these murderers have some kind of contact within the Ministry."  
  
"Oh, now that isn't possible."  
  
"How do you know? It was only last year that the Dark Lord himself was within the Ministry walls."  
  
Jones shuffled uneasily. "Yes, well. We'll see what comes up. For the mean- time, Mr. Severin, you must devise a plan as to how to get the boy to cough up the truth."  
  
My dad nodded, and motioned for Jones to leave the room. Then, he began pacing up and down the darkened room, occasionally throwing glances in my direction. I didn't say anything. I didn't want to get on the wrong side of my dad. Not a good idea. Especially when he's thinking of a plan. After about ten minutes, he stopped.  
  
"I've got it!" he cried.  
  
I heard a flock of birds fly in shock from the roof of the Ministry. We were on the top floor, and roof was practically caving in. I also heard a few 'plops' of shock on the tinted windows. Great. Just great.  
  
He ran towards me, and gripped my shoulders tightly. He pulled my face into his, and peered into my eyes. He seemed to be searching for something. I was going to ask him what he was doing, when he grinned uncontrollably.  
  
I tried to pull my face as hard as I could from his face. His face was reminding me of a Cheshire cat. My childhood nightmare, the cat from Alice in Wonderland. Of course, my dad was too ecstatic to even realise he was really scaring me.  
  
"Darling, darling. You are such a darling. You know what? You're such a darling that I'll buy you a new broomstick. How about that? Huh?"  
  
I just stared at him in shock. I'd already got a perfectly good firebolt. I didn't want another broomstick.  
  
"No? Well, what about a crate of sweets?"  
  
I stayed silent. It was safest.  
  
"Oh, yes. Teenagers and their diets these days." He let go of my shoulders. And just when I thought I was free, he put an arm round me, and began walking me round the room.  
  
"What about going to Hogwarts? No private tutoring, but an actual school. What about that?"  
  
I froze on the spot. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He, wanted me to go to a school with other teenagers? With boys AND girls? Whoa. Something was majorly wrong. Or right, judging the look on my dad's face.  
  
"Right. I'll take that as a yes. I'll get writing to old Dumbledore, straight away. But first, to change your name."  
  
"CHANGE MY NAME? Why? What is this plan? What is wrong with you?"  
  
"Oh, nothing to worry your juvenile brain about." I glared angrily at my dad, juvenile? "You know. Just a little, uh, security." I just stared in disbelief.  
  
"What about Jane? No, too old fashioned. What about Hilary? Nah, not my daughter, anyhow. (No offence to those who are called Hilary or Jane. My middle name is Jane anyway, so no hard feelings.)  
  
"What about Liberty?" I asked.  
  
My father pondered a moment. "Yes, it's got a nice ring to it. Yes, I like it!" He roared. Another 'plop' of surprise was delivered to the windows. How thoughtful.  
  
"Now, this boy. This boy knows something about his father that we don't. Now, the problem is, how can we persuade him to tell us what it is?"  
  
I just gave him a blank look. How was I supposed to know?  
  
"Well, the answer is you."  
  
"Me?" Me. What planet is he on? If he quacked, he would've make more sense than he did then, I can tell you.  
  
"Yes, you. You can squeeze it out of him, more easily than any one of us from the department."  
  
"But how?"  
  
"Any way you want. Be his friend-"  
  
"He'll have friends." I interrupted. Dad ignored me.  
  
"Even be his girlfriend. Whatever the means of doing it, get the information. Every single bit of it."  
  
"Be his girlfriend? What are you? A nutter?"  
  
"Maybe. But here's a photo of him." A tatty photo was shoved under my nose.  
  
It was of a family. They looked really happy. They were standing in front of a crumbling cottage, with a rusted gate, the sun shining on them, as if it too, were smiling. There was a very pretty lady, with auburn hair smiling, holding hands with a girl of about five. The man next to her was, as I instantly recognised him, was John Silverstone. In between them, was a young boy, of about eleven, throwing a cheeky smile at the camera. He too, was smiling. He looked really cute, but I had to remind my self, that this photo was 5 years old.  
  
I told my father this, but he merely shrugged. I frowned at his retreating back, as he headed towards an abandoned desk.  
  
"I'm writing the letter to Dumbledore, go home to your mother. She is expecting you." I was about to ask how, as I wasn't supposed to be back till Five o'clock, when he began talking again. "Keep the photo. His name is Andrew. I will sort everything out. Go."  
  
So, I did as he said and walked out of the Ministry, still thinking of my dad's ludicrous plan. As I was doing so, I walked straight into the fountain, and nearly toppled into it. I got some stares, but I just shrugged them off. People. They had no idea what I was going to go through. I looked at my robes, which were splattered with water, and headed out of the main door.  
  
The end of the first chapter. That is the longest chapter I have ever written. I have now got writer's block. Never mind. Please review, using that little purple button down there, in the right hand corner. It is purple! Not blue! Like some people said. Oh well. Review, please, please, please! 


	2. Andrew

Disclaimer: This fic has been created solely for entertainment purposes. I, roze, take full credit for all improvements in your life commencing as of your reading of this fic and continuing for a reasonable period of time thereafter or until hell freezes over, whichever is longer. I, roze, accept no blame for any trouble you might get into because of same, including but not limited to: grounding, detention, expulsion from school, disfiguring hunting accidents, and the death penalty. You have now been duly warned. Enjoy!  
  
r+r, PLEASE, roze x  
  
Lies, Deceit and Betrayal  
  
Andrew  
  
Her name was Liberty. She was really pretty, and I nearly choked on a jellybean when I saw her. She just smiled calmly, and leant back on her bed. No, I wasn't in her bedroom. (No matter how much I wanted to be) I was on the Knight Bus. Stan led me to the bed next to hers, and gave me some change. I nodded my thanks, and settled down on the bed. I was just about to get another jellybean when the bus jolted forwards, and I lost the jellybean from my hand.  
  
Liberty giggled quietly, and flicked her dark brown hair behind her shoulder. She gave me another smile, so I was really glad that I was on a bed, otherwise my knees would've given in. Then, she looked down at something in her hand, and then she looked at me, then back again. I gave her a confused look, but she just blushed, and turned away. I swallowed the lump that had just appeared in my throat, and opened my mouth to say something. But the power of speech had left me.  
  
She reached for something below her bed, but couldn't find it. She was now in a really weird position. Her knees and legs were still on the bed, but her head was underneath it. Her bum was in the air, no matter how much she didn't want it to be. All of a sudden the bus jerked, and she fell, heels over head, on the floor. I heard a groan, but didn't want to get up, for fear that I too would get knocked over.  
  
A hand appeared, clutching a pen on the bed, and using that hand, she crawled up onto the bed. She then ignored me while she scribbled something down on her hand. She looked up at me and flashed a smile, even though you could tell she was really embarrassed.  
  
"What's your name?" she asked.  
  
I stuttered. "My-my name is Andrew. Andrew Silverstone" I felt my cheeks redden, so I looked down on the duvet I was lying on.  
  
"Oh, hi! Nice to meet you," she answered, sounding really cool. I so wish I could do that. "I'm Liberty Severin." She flashed another smile at me, and then looked at me expectantly.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"I dunno." She frowned. "What school do you go to?" she asked, while Stan was ushering an old witch down the steps, off the bus.  
  
"Hogwarts." To be honest, I thought that was really obvious, but hey, never mind.  
  
"What house are you in?" She asked, genuinely interested.  
  
"Ravenclaw."  
  
"Ravenclaw? Oh, I want to be in that house." She said, looking out of the window. "But both my parent's were in Slytherin. So I guess I'll go there too."  
  
I stared at the back of her head. She doesn't look like the kind of person that'll go into Slytherin. But why wasn't she in Hogwarts long ago? Was she a transfer student?  
  
"How old are you?" I asked.  
  
"I'm sixteen. Why?" she asked, looking at me questioningly.  
  
"Oh, you're the same age as me." she didn't look at all surprised. I wonder why? "Why haven't you been in Hogwarts?"  
  
"I've been home tutored for the last five years."  
  
Whoa. That must be hard. You'd have no friends or anything. Poor her. I'll happily be her friend, and show her round the school.  
  
I told her so, and she just muttered something about being in Slytherin. Girls. They talk a totally different language.  
  
r+r. roze x 


	3. I was SO wrong

Thanks to those who have reviewed! Well, left, right, same thing. Just press the button. Please?  
  
Disclaimer: This fic has been created solely for entertainment purposes. I, roze, take full credit for all improvements in your life commencing as of your reading of this fic and continuing for a reasonable period of time thereafter or until hell freezes over, whichever is longer. I, roze, accept no blame for any trouble you might get into because of same, including but not limited to: grounding, detention, expulsion from school, disfiguring hunting accidents, and the death penalty. You have now been duly warned. Enjoy!  
  
r+r, PLEASE, roze x  
  
Lies, Deceit and Betrayal  
  
Andrew  
  
She kept on writing. It actually began to make me feel awkward. I guessed she was just some kind of budding journalist or something.  
  
I really wanted to stop looking at her, but I couldn't. I kept noticing little things like the waves in her hair, and the way her nose wrinkled when a wizard with pickled newts walked by.  
  
'Snap out of it, Andrew,' I told myself. 'She'll think you're some kind of stalker.'  
  
But she was just so, so amazing. So great. She was just, I dunno. But every time I looked at her, I just thought 'wow'.  
  
"Andrew?" I turned to see her gorgeous face looking at me quizzically.  
  
"Y-Yes?" Stop stuttering, you stuttering buffoon!  
  
"Will you sit with me on the train?"  
  
Would I? Darn, of course I would. You would have to be some mental delinquent, or blind not to. What about my friends I usually sit with? Oh well, she'll have sit with them.  
  
"If- if you don't mind sitting with my friends." STOP STUTTERING!!!!!  
  
"Of course not! Oh, wow, thanks Andrew." She looked genuinely happy.  
  
As I turned away, I noticed how travel sick I felt. I reached into my jacket pocket to find a little circle of muggle medicine. Helps wonders for feeling sick. I would normally use magic. It was illegal at that moment though.  
  
"Do you usually use the Knight Bus to get to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Erm- well, uh, no. My ah, my dad usually, err, takes me." I coughed. I felt tears pricking at my eyes. My dad. Oh god, why? Why? I stared out of my window, occasionally putting out an arm to stop myself from falling off the bed.  
  
"Erm," she sounded uncomfortable, and nervous. Strange. " Err, why, uh, why didn't he take you today?" She doesn't know anything about my dad, does she? I glanced at her. Her little face watched me, intrigued. Of course she didn't know. The only people that knew about my dad were the guys that found his, his body.  
  
How wrong was I?  
  
"Well, I, um, I-"oh god. I was stuck. "He um, he, he's busy today."  
  
She just nodded thoughtfully, and wrote something down in her hand. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I decided to check on my owl that was hanging at the bottom of my bed.  
  
I crawled to the bottom of my bed, on all fours; and, when reaching the bottom, the bus jerked forwards. So me, and the bed, flew to the front of the bus in a huge jumble.  
  
"Woss the hurry?" asked Stan.  
  
I just purely groaned with embarrassment.  
  
You know what to do. roze x 


End file.
